


Hyrule Warriors: Cia Later

by NullWriter



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: BDSM, Bestiality, Birth, Breeding, Cock milking, F/M, Impregnation, Other, Pregnant Sex, Reality Bending, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14581263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NullWriter/pseuds/NullWriter
Summary: Taking possession of the triforce, the Dark Sorceress Cia can do anything her imagination lights on. How will she use it to take possession of her one love, Link?





	Hyrule Warriors: Cia Later

“All battalions, attack!”  
  
The ruins of the Valley of Seers were awash with the sounds of battle. The men of the army of Hyrule crossed swords with a dozen monstrous races. Lizalfos, Bokoblins, Poes and more poured out of the Gate of Souls, each one more eager than the last to help conquer Hyrule. Man and Monster pitted their strength the one against the other, to see who deserved ownership of the great and rich country. The battle had been going for hours, and yet time seemed strangely slow, as if the sun could not, or would not, set until the bloody deeds were all done.  
  
Above it all, the Dark Sorceress Cia watched the ebb and flow of battle. She watched as the men of Hyrule fell back, regrouped, and pushed back her own forces. They were magnificent. In the face of incredible odds, they still pushed on, almost as if they were incapable of encompassing retreat in their minds.   
  
But if the average Hylian soldier had bravery, they had heroes as well to look upon for help. Cia had to consciously slow her breathing as she saw him cut through her forces. He, the one she had longed for in her heart of hearts. He, the great hero of a dozen ages. The mere thought of him set her heart on fire.  
  
Link was coming for her.  
  
The hero parried a Darknut's blade, before kicking off the knight's helmet and driving the pommel of his sword into the captain's neck, knocking him out. Behind him, Sheik used her harp to blow away the Bokoblins that stood between the two and the Sorceress. The two of them were cut off from the rest of the army, surrounded by foes, but still they pressed on. Whether it was courage or recklessness, they couldn't tell. They only wanted to end this war as soon as they could, and as they cut their way through the horde, the symbols on the backs of their hands shone bright.  
  
“Shall I intercept them?” Volga asked from behind Cia. The Sorceress sighed at his obvious impatience, it was the third time he'd asked since they'd been cut off. But she could hardly blame him. A warrior like him, eager for slaughter and being kept behind the front lines – it must have been torture.  
  
“No,” Cia responded, before raising a black nail to her lips. “But you can do something else that will help.” She could feel the dragon's spirit burning behind her. With her staff, topped by a great purple crystal, she pointed to a dangerous salient the Hylians had forced in the west. “We must keep those two isolated. Beat back the Hylians from the fort, and keep them on the other side of the ridge no matter the cost.”  
  
“But if those two attack you…”  
  
“You needn't worry about that,” Cia cut him off. “Follow my orders, and feast on the blood you so desperately crave.”  
  
The general rushed off with the speed of a drake, his spear singing a deadly song.  
  
As she watched Link and the other approach her, for the first time Cia wondered if she'd made a mistake, if she should have kept Volga with her. Link's skills were unparalleled, he moved with the strength and grace of a tiger. Had she gambled too much on this plan of hers? If she failed at it, how could she defeat him? Not even her prodigious magic could conquer him.  
  
As the Sorceress came into view, Link and Sheik redoubled their efforts. Through a sea of foes they'd fought their way, and Link could feel a power drawing him ever further. He knew Sheik felt it too. They worked together as if they had one mind, the further they went they didn't even need to speak to each other, they knew as if by instinct what the other would do. It was a harmony of battle that astonished even the most battle-hardened Darknut, and terrified the weaker-willed Bokoblins.  
  
Coming to the top of the steps, the two left behind them a trail of beaten foes, with nothing between them and the Sorceress. But even as Link lifted his sword, ready for battle, he felt something strange. Something about how she looked distressed him, but he didn't know why. She was beautiful, her light chocolate skin barely covered by her seemingly haphazard robes. Beauty could be evil, then? He didn't feel a killing intent from behind the Sorceress' beaked mask, but he certainly felt a pull on him.  
  
“For Hyrule!” Sheik declared, and Link lept after her a fraction of a second later.  
  
The Sorceress held out her hand, a flash of light, and everything went wrong.  
  
He was being torn into pieces.  
  
Who even was “he”?  
  
Who was this happening to?  
  
A pain beyond pain wracked the nameless core.  
  
It saw a life play through, a baby growing into a young boy and then into a young man, and it knew it was its own life.  
  
But something was different.  
  
Something was…  
**************************************************  
Link awoke with a gasp, sitting up and panting, sweating as if he'd come out of a nightmare. But the nightmare slipped from his mind's grasp, melting away even as he tried to pin it down.  
  
He looked around, and he knew he was home. His little cottage, out in the wilderness. The day was already bright, the sun pouring through the east window into the main room, where the hearth was still burning bright with fresh logs, the pot hanging above it boiling well with a fragrant soup.  
  
It was all like he remembered. His hunting bow was pulled off the wall, leaning with his full quiver against the wooden door. He smiled. Usually his wife scolded him if she woke up before him. Something seemed to have put her in a very good mood if she had let him rest. Sliding out of the large bed, he stretched, his naked form the perfect example of a man in his youth. His muscles were clear to see under his skin, but he was still thin like a corded rope.  
  
Throwing on some as-yet-unwashed clothes, Link was about to open to door when it opened in front of him. “Oh!” Cia exclaimed, carrying a big basket in front of her. “You're finally awake, sleepyhead!” She held out her basket, the dirndl holding in heavy breasts showing their jiggling at the movement. Link took the basket, feeling how heavy whatever inside was. He was about to ask when Cia leaned in and kissed him.  
  
Her lips touched his, and it was like stars exploding in Link's head. Soft and smooth, she held him in place like she'd put a spell on him. But it was a spell they both had on each other. How quickly they'd fallen in love, the itinerant hunter and the orphaned milkmaid! How quickly they'd pledged their love and lives together before the village, everyone pitching in to help build the new couple a home of stone and turf, half set into the ground so that it seemed like a small mound if not for the chimney.  
  
Cia broke the kiss, before playfully rubbing her knuckle into her husband's temple. “I can't believe you! You were supposed to meet with the priest this morning before going into the woods to give him our present, but I had to do it because you were asleep!”  
  
“I'm sorry, dear, but don't you usually wake me up?” Link grabbed at her hand, the dark-skinned woman sighing in mock surrender.  
  
“If you did it on your own I wouldn't need to!” She waltzed into the living room, before sitting heavily down on the bed. “That,” she nodded at the basket, “is a gift from Olga. She and her husband wanted to thank you for dealing with that wolf problem of theirs.”  
  
Link bent down, pulled off the cloth covering the basket to see a huge heap of preserved meats and cheeses. It was a generous gift. He looked back up and Cia was fanning herself.  
  
Cia, in her purple and white dirndl, struck Link dumb with her beauty, even when she wasn't deliberately trying to seduce him. Her breasts had, according to the other villagers, always been pretty large, but they seemed to him almost like the udders on the cows she'd used to milk. She leaned forward, pulling small burrs off her shoes, and he watched in pleasant silence as the udders shook, the cleavage between them inviting. “They even said that that basket's only the first part of the payment. I tried to talk Olga out of it, but you know how pushy she can be when she's being generous.”  
  
Cia looked up, and was about to castigate her husband for just standing there when she saw where his attention was directed. She'd been self-conscious about her bust for years, but considering how it kept Link's eyes on her, she didn't care at all if she looked a little like a cow. Getting back to her feet, she put the lid on the soup. It would wait a few hours for their supper.  
  
“Let's have a picnic,” she said out of the blue, her skirt whirling about her knees as she turned to face Link.  
  
He couldn't say no to that.  
  
They took some of the choice bits from the gift basket, storing the rest, a long loaf of bread, and then also a jug of wine. The couple went into the warm summer noon (Link carrying everything), looking down across the valley, and the village a mile away below them. Behind them the woods stretched out like a wall, marking the boundary between one world and the next.   
  
Not far from their home there was a small mound, and Link and Cia sat themselves on the top, cuddling as they ate their light lunch. Link and Cia fed each other, the two still glowing as newlyweds, the light breeze cutting the heat of the sun. Cia rested her head on Link's lap, who used his head of shaggy blonde hair to block the sun from her face.  
  
“I'm not the one who needs to worry about the sun!” she laughed, before pulling Link's head down to kiss her. His hands reached into her cleavage, and she shuddered as his strong hands grabbed at her breasts. Under her head she could feel Link's cock stiffening, between her own legs was a growing dampness.  
  
Link pinched at Cia's nipples, which were usually sunken into her areolae. “Link, Link that's not fair!” she pleaded. He had to play around with them, fingering them, pushing his fingers into them, all sorts of little methods to finally get the uncommonly thick nipples to stand tall. Cia was still self-conscious about those, but Link loved them. He slid Cia's dirndl down over her shoulders, and pulled her breasts out of it. He leaned down and took her left nipple in his mouth, sucking and kissing on it.  
  
“Ah! Link!” Cia gasped. When he bit down, even gently, on it, she squeaked and pushed him off, rolling to the side and panting.  
  
“Did I…?” Link was worried he'd done something wrong, when Cia pounced on him.  
  
“Naughty boy, biting things he shouldn't!” she chastised her husband, before kissing him roughly. She undid her belt and slipped her dirndl off, showing her exquisite hourglass figure in the nude. When she flung it aside, she looked back down to see Link was as naked as she was. “How did you do that?” she asked, but Link wrapped his arms around her back and took her breasts in his mouth again.  
  
Cia leaned her head back as Link had his way with her chest. Her fingers dug into his hair, clenching and unclenching as she responded to his attacks. She massaged his scalp, alternately begging him to keep going and squealing for him to stop, her voice so different from what it normally was. Normally she was so collected, so responsible. But as Link lavished her nipples with attention Cia was kicking her feet up and down in the air behind her, panting like a bitch in heat.  
  
He cupped a hand between her legs, and pressed his thumb against her clitoris. Cia came, her orgasm shocking through her body, making her hug Link's head in her bosom, nearly smothering him between her breasts. She let go of her embrace on him, and fell to the soft grass, smiling.  
  
“I want to be inside you,” Link whispered in her ear. She rolled onto her back, grabbing her legs and spreading them.  
  
“Then get in here,” she said, her voice husky and lustful. “We need to get started on our family, Link!”  
  
Her pussy, wet, already slightly open and inviting, begged Link to violate her. His cock came to full mast, a mighty staff slightly curving upwards, the head surrounded by a pronounced mushroom cap.  
  
He pushed himself in, Cia letting out a long, drawn out moan as he began to fill her tunnel. She squeezed at her spit-shining breasts, pulling and kneading her nipples between her fingers. “Deeper, deeper, deeper!” she urged Link on, as inch after inch of his length disappeared inside of her. Not that he needed the exhortation. Cia's sex swallowed his length, her wet walls easily admitting him to slide further deeper inside of her. He bottomed out, their pelvises hitting together, and Link sucked in a huge breath.  
  
He wanted to cum so badly. He closed his eyes, straining the muscles around his dick to try and keep his balls from exploding. Cia's arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him close to her face. Her white hair was messily spread across her face, but her expression was blissful and content. “Don't strain yourself,” she said, caressing his cheek.  
  
“Hnngah!” Link gasped, his orgasm flooding through his body. He felt his cum pour through his cock, to splash into Cia's tunnel. She whispered words about their family life, how she'd glow in her pregnancy, how her breasts would leak milk that he'd need to manfully help her with.  
  
“And the wives say that a woman gets even more eager for sex when she's big with child,” she whispered, grinning like a cat. It all kept Link hard, even as he felt his cum leak out of her pussy below his cock.  
  
He began thrusting in and out of Cia, and she howled in joy.  
**************************************************  
He chased her through impossible architectures. Stairways that went two places at once, streams that ran uphill, perspectives that seemed to be too close and too far, nowhere resolving. When he could see out of the mass of buildings, he saw only a gray featureless expanse.  
  
How long had this gone on?  
  
She was radiant, glowing with supreme power, and she waved at him as he ran to reach her.  
  
“This isn't right,” he said, looking up at her on the ceiling, where a fountain splashed as if he were the one upside-down.  
  
“Why?” she asked, a genuine question in her voice.  
  
“It's not real.” His voice echoed through the piazzas and arcades.   
  
“You're wrong. It's all real.” She moved her hand and then  
**************************************************  
Slave grunted in pain around the cloth gag in his mouth. Hanging from the ceiling as he was, trussed up in rope, it was about all he could do. His legs and arms were bound above his back, and he was nude as he always was in Mistress' dungeon. For hours now he had hung there, the brutal, damp heat making him sweat like a pig.  
  
He wanted to break the ropes, break free of his damnable slavery, but whenever he flexed his muscles to try and rip his way out, the gem in his collar shone bright, weakening his strength, if not his endurance. Yes, one but not the other. Mistress wanted him to last hours, if not days, but she could do without his strength, the thing that had originally set him apart from the other slaves.  
  
His hair sticking to his face, it was hard for Slave to look around the room he was in, and the dim light coming from far underneath the grated metal floor didn't help. Not that there was usually much to look at. The dungeons were just where Mistress played with her toys. Anything there was just a tool for her amusement.  
  
How many years had he been in her keeping? Time barely had meaning for him, he didn't see the sun or moon anymore. All he knew of time was how long his hair, beard, or nails grew, before Mistress had her other slaves clean Slave up before she had another session with him. Why she kept him around, how she hadn't grown bored with him as she had with almost every other toy she'd ever had, it was beyond him. Her mind was impossible to penetrate, her thoughts obscure.  
  
The door creaked open behind Slave, and he heard the metal on metal of Mistress' high heels striking the floor. She examined Slave, he could feel her gaze on him, looking at the ropes digging into his skin. But more importantly for her, she could look at Slave's dick, hanging low, painfully full of blood even without stimulation.  
  
Mistress reached out, and her gloved finger and thumb grasped Slave's dick about halfway down. He cried out in pain at the touch, his voice muffled. Her hand felt up his dick, feeling his flaccid length, her palm pressing against his glans. Each touch made Slave shiver with pain and pleasure mixed together. Her silk glove was gentle on his skin, and even if he'd wanted to fight it, Slave felt his cock grow hard.  
  
Mistress felt it too, and she began to start stroking Slave's dick, her fingers gliding up and down. Slave shuddered as she milked his engorged member, the feeling of pins and needles in his flesh making him sweat with pain. His gruntings of pain filled the little room, as the presence behind Slave pressed her palm against the bottom of his cock, her grip even harder.  
  
Up and down, up and down, she went, until Slave couldn't think of anything beyond the feeling of silk-covered fingers on his cock. It was torture. Eventually Slave couldn't deal with it in stoic silence. He thrashed, throwing his head around as he roared and bellowed behind his gag, an animal being farmed for Mistress' amusement. He was nothing more than his body for her.  
  
He came, his orgasm volcanic and excruciating. He felt as if his cock was disgorging his very life, as his cock pulsed around those evil fingers. But eventually his cumming stopped, and only a few drops came out of Slave's piss slit, to collect into the gutter below the room.  
  
“Good boy,” Mistress said, coming in front of Slave. She was dressed as she usually was, her beaked mask obscuring her face, her milk-leaking nipples chained together with gold and pierced with jewels, leading to more piercings on her navel and then to her clitoris, and a diaphanous black robe that left her whole front exposed. He could see the stretch marks on her stomach, and he looked from them to the mask. Her body was maternal and lovely, a temptation to rest in and find relief. It was hell on him to keep his head from falling down, but he had to do it.  
  
“She was born a few weeks ago. Another of our children, my pet,” she said, her palm resting against Slave's cheek. He hardly knew how many times Mistress had used him to impregnate herself, but clearly she still found it amusing to do. “Big and strong, just like the others. You really are a wonderful father.”  
  
Why was she telling him this? To further twist the knife in his stomach? She was never going to let him go. Slave had almost, almost resigned himself to that fate. But something in his chest never let him give up hope and with it, hate. He hated Mistress, hated her with a fury that dwarfed the molten rock that sometimes spewed from the earth.  
  
She knew it too. Even when she trained him to say he loved her, to say it with all the sincerity and true emotion he could muster, lest she whip his back again, she knew he hated her. She could see it in Slave's eyes, see it in the way he looked at her, as a monster and not a human being. She was his antagonist, the thing he would destroy above all others. And she enjoyed it.  
  
Mistress undid the gag, throwing it to the floor. Slave panted, spit falling from his mouth. Mistress held out her gloved hand under the overflow, collecting it in her palm, before bringing it up to her mouth and sucking it up like it was from a spring of clean water.  
  
Even with the gag off, Slave said nothing. He'd learned never to say anything without Mistress asking him first the hard way when he'd first arrived, and she'd yet to become pregnant with any of his children. She used to be impatient with her crop, and many nights Slave would sleep on his stomach, his ass too red and sore from her reprimands for him to put any pressure on it.   
  
Mistress and Slave watched each other for a few moments. Eventually Mistress snapped her fingers. Slave was lowered to the ground, and the knot binding his limbs together was undone. He sprawled out on the warm floor, his sweat on the square metal grid below him. He finally flipped himself over onto his back, and he felt the blood slowly drain out of his cock, the painful feeling of fullness leaking out of it as Mistress watched.  
  
Then, Slave felt his collar loosen. He looked up at Mistress, who was staring down at him through her mask.  
  
He didn't waste a moment. In an instant he was on her, his fist thudding into her stomach. Mistress doubled over, the breath thrown from her body. Another punch into her kidney made her freeze in pain. Slave grabbed her and threw her across the room, and he rushed after her, straddling her stomach and ripping her mask off.  
  
For the first time Slave saw Mistress' face. She was in pain and… surprise? No, not surprise. Expectation. She knew what was going to happen when she opened the collar.   
  
Well Slave didn't care. His hands gripped Mistress' neck firmly, his thumbs digging into her windpipe. How well he knew the neck, from when she used to choke him. He learned well where the windpipe and the arteries were. He could have gone for the arteries, but he didn't want her to go quick. He wanted her to suffer.  
  
Mistress opened her mouth, unable to speak or breathe.  
  
Slave pushed his thumbs deeper into her windpipe.  
  
She kicked out weakly, and Slave wondered if she was getting off on this.  
  
She reached out, gently, her palm touching his cheek.  
  
She mouthed some words, weakly and without breath.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
His thumbs stopped, even as the door opened. Slave looked to the door, seeing a young woman standing there. She looked like the image of Mistress that Slave remembered, her sheer black robes barely concealing the tattoos that wound along her limbs and up her naked stomach, but for her bright blue eyes.  
  
“Father,” she said, with an exasperated air, “you should be more gentle with Mother.”  
**************************************************  
The trees of the garden fruited with spheres, each one a different color unknown to human eyes. She hid from him, appearing at the corner of his vision, sending him chasing after her.   
  
“Why chase me?” she asked, reclining on a stone bench. “Is my beauty so overwhelming you can't live without it?”  
  
Something clicked in his memory.   
  
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, following her into a blue-leafed hedge maze. “What about the war, what about Hyrule?”  
  
She ran from him, until she came to a dead end, the hedge unyielding to even her touch. She turned around, her back to the wall. “I never cared about Hyrule,” she replied. She threw her mask behind him, and the two fell into a huge, curtained bed. “It was only you. I did everything for you.” She smiled, before wincing in pain.  
  
It was hard to believe for him. What was he? What special life did he have, that would draw the attention of a Goddess?  
  
“Where's…?”  
  
“My other half? She's with me again, but…”  
  
He hadn't meant her.  
  
The three symbols on her hand glowed, as if they had a life of their own.  
**************************************************  
Cia gasped as the huge canine cock entered her, her ecstatic moan filling the torch-lit den. Her master, her conqueror, towered over her, his furry stomach against her back. On her hands and knees, her pregnant belly nearly touched the bed of furs below her.  
  
Cia felt her children, sired by the lust-filled demon above her, stir as the red tip of his cock hit her cervix. They were so eager to meet their father, and she knew from her pangs that they would be born soon.  
  
How far away her old life seemed! When that beast, that destroyer wielding terrible power, overthrew her guards and stole her away from her kingdom. She was a queen, loved and respected by her people! What would they think of her now, her arms wrapped around the forelegs of her captor and lover, her expression lost in carnal bliss?   
  
Her staid, responsible life had been taken from her, replaced with one of total submission. Link left her in the den with Midna, the princess of the Twilight realm, when he left, but when he returned his will was law. At first she fought his advances, fought to maintain her resolve in the face of his attacks on her. But she couldn't fight anymore once she knew she was pregnant, just as Midna was.  
  
The other princess was gone, somewhere else in the monster's den, leaving Cia alone to be rutted with. Link pounded into her, his slimy red cock bulging near the tip, spreading Cia's tunnel open in a way she'd never thought possible before.   
  
With each thrust, her heavy breasts spurted more of her sweet, watery milk, her nipples swollen and almost black. The liquid dripped down the curve of her breasts to pool on the fur below, until Link lowered his head and began to use his huge tongue to drink it up off her body.  
  
“Yes, yes!” she squealed. “I'm a bitch, I'm your bitch!” She wanted her people to hear her voice. This was who she was. This was her true self.  
  
Cia felt her orgasm fast approaching, but just before the wave broke over her, she let out a pained moan. Her body was already trying to birth her children. She felt their bodies shift in her womb, and she whimpered as Link continued to hammer into her.  
  
“P-please, master!” she begged. “The babies! I'm giving birth to the babies!”  
  
Link could certainly understand Cia, but he didn't change his goal. He pressed a heavy paw against her head, pushing her cheek to the wet fur below, as she felt his knot grow.  
  
“No! Please not now!” she shrieked. “Knot me when the babies are born, please not now!”  
  
It was too late. She felt the jagged, irregular edges of Link's knot swell inside her tunnel. The immense pressure pressed on her g-spot, and Cia felt herself lose control of her body, sending a spray of piss into the air behind her as she let out a high-pitched scream. Then Link came, filling her tunnel and her opening womb with a flood of his hot sperm.  
  
Cia could feel it all, but she was under assault by too many sensations, and her mouth drooled as her body twitched, still trying to birth her children past her master's cock and unable to.  
  
Only after a half hour did Link start to pull his cock, his knot hard but slowly deflating. But he was still jammed against the walls of Cia's pussy, and as he pulled she felt like he was pulling her insides out along with him. “Aaaagggh!” her anguished voice echoed in the den.  
  
With a wet pop, Link pulled his cock out, as well as making an inch or so of Cia's cunt prolapse. She let out unintelligible noises, her legs splayed out as her hands rested on her stomach, the impatient young inside her shifting and moving.  
  
They were born quick. Two wolf cubs, and a little girl of brown skin, all covered in blood, fluid, and their father's jizz. Cia, her body covered in sweat, tears streaming down her cheeks. She watched as Link helped clean their children with his tongue, before handing the babies over to her to nurse, the boys on one breast and the girl on the other.  
  
“They're very beautiful Cia, congratulations!” Midna's voice came from the side, and Cia turned her head to see. The tall, mysterious royal was also pregnant, and leading a new girl on a chain.  
  
“I am the princess of Hyrule!” Zelda said, stumbling as her collar was jerked. “I will not…!” she stopped as she saw Cia, saw the state of her. Her mouth opened in horror as the import of it sank into her mind.  
  
“No! No! NO!” she begged, as Link took the leash from Midna and pulled Zelda to the ground. Cia listened as the other monarch was ravaged for the first time on the road to breaking her, feeling her babies suckle on her teats. Midna lay down next to her and wiped at Cia's forehead, gently touching the children, her other hand on her own stomach.  
  
Link would conquer many lands, and his race would know no end, not with Cia as his first consort.  
**************************************************  
“Where is Zelda?” Link asked.  
  
Cia led Link into a hall of mirrors. Everywhere he looked he saw her reflection, but something was wrong. She was sweating, as if she were walking on a broken foot and hiding the pain.  
  
“If you were looking for her, why are you chasing after me?” she asked, her voice thin.  
  
“You took the triforce! From me and her!” It was so strange, not having it, as if he'd lost a sense he'd always used but never known was there.  
  
“What was she using it for?”  
  
“To help her people!”  
  
“Then why can't I use it to help you!”  
  
Link turned around, lunging for Cia and hitting a mirror. He heard her panting, and when he jumped on top of the mirrored walls, he saw her fleeing and stumbling.  
  
He chased her down, gaining on her uncertain steps. On a staircase that seemed to stretch upwards into blackness, he called out to her.  
  
“Stop this!”  
  
“I…!” Cia panted. The triforce on her hand sparked.  
**************************************************  
Link watched as Zelda writhed in a puddle of disgusting, foul Bokoblin jizz. Her eyes were unfocused, her whole body covered in the yellow cum. Her gasps of defiance had ended hours before, replaced with animalistic cries as the mob had used her on and on. Not her pussy was gaping, leaking more of the thick semen.  
  
“I told you not to watch,” Cia whispered into Link's ear.  
**************************************************  
“…can't…”  
**************************************************  
Link waved at the jubilant crowd below. Beside him his love and helper on the quest waved as well. Ganon had been defeated, banished to the darkness for a thousand years of peace!  
**************************************************  
“…I can't…!”  
**************************************************  
Link pressed his fingers into Cia's ass, as she tried to maintain her customary decorum as hostess for the party.  
**************************************************  
Cia gagged on Link's cock through the glory hole, her dress hiked around her hips as she squatted.  
**************************************************  
Cia cried as she felt the sword at her throat.  
**************************************************  
Cia loved her boy toy Link, she could never throw him away for long.  
**************************************************  
Cia sobbed at the empty grave.  
**************************************************  
“…stop…!”  
**************************************************  
He held her head to his chest. She had been sobbing, tears running down her cheeks without end, and she blew her nose on Link's tunic sleeve.  
  
“The triforce?” he asked.  
  
Cia nodded. “I… I thought I could control it. But it's too much for me, even with Lana's strength coming back to me.”  
  
They were at the top of a huge tower, looking out over a strange landscape of hills of gray ash and ruins that neither recognized. The sky was a kaleidoscope of different realities, refracting and shattering as they slammed together. Down below, far away, Link could see Princess Zelda rallying the Hylian troops, having shed her disguise as Shiek. Even in a place like this, beyond any place they knew, they followed her.  
  
“She'll always have the country,” Cia said, weakly.  
  
Link looked down at Cia's face, her purple irises watery. “She… she'll never be able to give herself entirely to one man. Hyrule will always be there. It's what makes her a good princess, it's why her people love her. But that responsibility will always weigh on her. Even alone with her husband she'll think about it. She can't love a man over her kingdom.”  
  
Link looked back at Zelda. For a moment he thought they locked eyes, even across that immense distance, but she kept up her efforts. Had he been pining for her like that? He realized he had, imagining the two of them together, alone and away from the world. Was it truly impossible for her?  
  
“But Link,” Cia's hand clenched into a fist on his chest, “I can give myself to you. I _want_ to! Ever since I first saw you, my heart…!” She cried a little more. “It's been on fire for ages I can't count. I want to be yours, yours entirely. I'll be anything you want. Your Sorceress, your Mistress, your Queen, your Slave!” She buried her face into his chest. “The triforce…! I only needed it to give you what you wanted. Just please, please love me!”  
  
Link didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. He stroked Cia's hair as she sobbed into his chest. Below, scattered Bokoblins ran from the rallied Hylians, but no one really felt like fighting, not even the Darknuts. Not in this place.  
  
Time, or what might have been thought of as time, passed. “You really went to war to conquer Hyrule just for me?” Link asked.  
  
Cia sniffed, nodding.  
  
“You could have just visited me at the guard house if you wanted to say hello!” Link laughed.  
  
Cia looked up with a wavering smile. Link felt her heartbeat through her chest pressed against his own, and he found it hard to hate Cia. Beyond hard, impossible.  
  
He kept smiling, and then Cia chuckled a little. “I… guess it's a bit much, isn't it?”  
  
“Thank you Cia,” Link said, sincere. “I never thought of myself as that important before.”  
  
“You're the most important man in the world,” Cia mumbled. She was about to relax when she winced again.  
  
“Cia!” Link yelled. He looked at the back of her hand, and the triforce glowed a terrible red on her skin. “Cia, you can't control it all together, you have to give it up!”  
  
Cia gasped in pain, shivering and sweating. Above them the sky exploded with fractions of worlds, each colliding with the others for reality, annihilating each other as the shards of glass fell to the ash below.  
  
“I… I can't give this up!” she pleaded, before doubling over as the power wracked her body.  
  
“Cia, you'll destroy yourself if you hold onto it!” he begged her, holding her hand in his. From the horizon, a featureless, erasing fog began creeping towards the tower, dissolving everything that touched it into the mist.  
  
“I can control it! I know I can!” Cia groaned, gritting her teeth. “It's my wish, it's my power!”  
  
Link looked back out, and the fog was speeding up. It was many miles away, or what looked like it, but it was already moving faster than a man could run.  
  
“Cia…” Link wracked his brain. What could he do?  
  
Link leaned in and kissed Cia. Gentle, loving, sincerely. As he pulled away, Cia looked at him as if he had two heads.  
  
“Cia, come see me when this is over. Please.”  
  
Cia nodded, crying.  
  
From the sky of possibilities, a line extended into a plane, and then extended again into a space, and finally the space extended into something Link couldn't describe, before falling down on everyone there.  
**************************************************  
The aftermath of the battle had been easier than expected. Without Cia, Volga had withdrawn with his more disciplined troops back through the Gate of Souls, and the broken mob of beasts was no match for an army.  
  
Princess Zelda had commemorated Link's achievements in saving Hyrule from such a great threat, defeating the Sorceress as he had. But she was a woman of high and noble birth, far beyond a country boy's dreams. She offered him rewards and honors beyond imagining for many, but not the thing he'd hoped for – her heart. She was as glorious and remote as the sun, and both understood it was necessary, even if they might have wished for things to be different.  
  
Unable to bear the castle anymore, Link left the army with many honors and gifts, which he used to buy himself a small cottage outside a little village. It was nice and homey, half-sunk into the ground, and near to the great forest on the mountain slopes.  
  
From time to time, he thought about Cia. He thought about the strange half-reality they'd been in. He didn't remember much of those worlds they'd seen – only brief impressions, inexplicable distastes for certain things that weren't rooted in any of his past experiences, songs that made him cry that he'd never heard before.  
  
Hooking his hunting bow over his shoulder, Link was ready for another day of hunting. He reached out to open the door, when a knock came from the other side. He opened it up, to see a young but mature-bodied woman of dark skin and white hair, carrying a basket.  
  
The two stared at each other in mutual surprise for a moment, until she took a breath and held the basket out.  
  
“Hi Link,” Cia said, “do you want to have a picnic with me?”  
  
A moment passed, a pregnant pause.  
  
Link took Cia's hand and pulled her inside, slamming the door behind her.


End file.
